"The unheard anger" By Ben Goode 2019 (c)

Regret and sorrow are like chains. 
If only a scream would be enough to satisfy this contemptuous anger.
And if only tears would satisfy this morbid sadness. 
Ranting off, so bitterly, burning off the highly fueled anger. 
I'm so angry at you, and the world!
I take my keys to escape quickly in my car.
To take a drive so long, it's distance would calm the storm in my head.
Inexhaustible, it seems. in the heat of the moment.
In a one sided conversation, saying things I need, and want to say.
Yelling out, alone, the counter and defensive arguments.
That nobody will see or hear in the night, with closed windows.
Driving on with no actual destination. On an almost hypnotic autopilot. 
The word's come out cold and fast. No longer holding back. 
In a perfection of scorn, and a dialogue so poisonous, it would hurt anyone.
I'm feeling like a victim. But I don't have to be. 
Constantly caught in an abandoned web of my own doubt.
But you never helped to free me from it!
All I can feel is a field around me which is like a barrier. 
I feel as if I am electric with frustration. 
And I hate the negative energy which has been generated. 
What does it power but the unhappiness?
I don't need it. 
And I finally open the window, to discard what's been said.
Leaving it behind, as if it were pollution. 
Driving on a calmer road. 
At first in silence. 
And then to welcome the music, that soothes my soul.
To drown out again, the unheard anger.